


sunday shoes.

by aceface



Category: American Idol RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceface/pseuds/aceface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Music and singing have been banned in David Archuleta's town by his father, the Reverend, for a long time. But when the new guy, David Cook, comes to town, things begin to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sunday shoes.

David's sitting on the floor in front of the television when his father comes in, Reverend Jeff's mouth already a sharp downward curve of disapproval even before he notices what's on the TV. David has a split-second of panic because, hello, American Idol is blaring out of the speakers. He should have been more careful, David thinks miserably, but he just couldn't help himself. He'd watched all six seasons almost obsessively, with his hands curled into themselves as he kneeled in front of the screen, clenching his fists so tightly than after the show ended, he was always amazed by the four curves in each palm where his fingernails had dug in. But now his father had come home early and David is just -- he's totally going to be _killed_, okay.

His father looks at the screen and then back at him, sighing. "David..." It's not even the first time he's been caught watching it and he should have learned by now. David sits back, waiting for the reprimand that he knows is coming. Reverend Jeff doesn't say anything else though, just sits down next to him. It's, well, it's kind of worse, actually, because now David doesn't know what's going through his father's mind, and he just -- he feels guilty. He always does and yet he continues to watch it.

"Sorry," he says, after a few minutes, in a quiet mumble. The show's still playing out, and he wishes he could just lean over and turn it off but he doesn't dare move at all.

His father sighs again, and presses the mute button on the television remote. "I've asked you not to watch this before," he says, just like he has every other time, and the sick guilty feeling rises up through David's stomach to sit in his throat. "We don't have many rules in this house. I don't ask much of you."

It's true. David knows that it's hard for his dad, being the Reverend to the town. Murray is small and everyone looks to Reverend Jeff as a role model, relying on him to tell them what to do, and -- just everything. It's a lot of responsibility, but it also keeps his father going most days, getting up early to write his sermons or whatever. David might not always -- might not _totally_agree with, well, some of what his dad says, but his dad believes it. And his father believes he's doing the best for the town -- _is_ doing what's best for the town, David corrects himself. 

"I miss singing," David says after a little while, in a small voice. He knows he shouldn't, but he does. It's been three years now and David thought it would get easier but it doesn't, at all. He still sings constantly, without realising -- snatches of songs, everything reminds him of it -- and he's always scared he's going to get caught. He just wants to be able to sing and _enjoy_ it again, dangit. 

"I know," Reverend Jeff says, sitting down next to David. He still leans across to turn the TV off, though. "I know you do, and I'm sorry. I wish you could still sing at church."

"Why _can't_ I?" David bursts out, and his eyes widen the moment the words leave his mouth. He didn't mean to say it out loud, gosh, that was so rude of him -- and to his _father_ -- and he apologises right away, but his father doesn't say anything for a few moments.

"I tried," Reverend Jeff says, not looking at David. "I did. But it was hypocritical of me -- to say that singing is correct in one situation, and not in another. It's not right, David."

His father rests his hand on the back of David's neck, and David tries not to flinch away. Instead, he makes himself lean back into his father's touch, tries to feel the way that he used to -- warm, and reassured by it. But it's not the same, and it hasn't been for a while, and David wants to _cry_, okay, almost as bad as he wants to sing all the time. But he's the Reverend's son, he reminds himself, and if the Reverend's own son doesn't support him -- well, it wouldn't look right, is all. It wouldn't _be_ right.

David curls his hands around the cuffs of his jeans to stop himself from fidgeting and just sits there in silence with his dad. It's not horrible, David doesn't hate his father and he doesn't see him as much as he'd like to. But lately, these days, all David can think of when he sees him is _why can't I sing?_ He doesn't see -- David is really dumb, okay, and he can totally admit that, but he can't see what's wrong with singing. Not -- he just _can't_, not when it's totally natural.

Reverend Jeff stands up, squeezing David's shoulder before he does. "Thank you for respecting my wishes, David." And David feels so bad that he totally decides to respect the Reverend's wishes, even though he wants to see the final, and hear the singing, because -- David's a good person, okay. He loves his father and he doesn't want to make him mad, and it's just, it's easier for everyone, this way.

And besides, when he really wants to sing, there's always his hiding place. No one can hear him when the trains come in.

\---

When David gets to school on Monday, Brooke and Carly are sat on the steps in front of school waiting for him. This is not unusual. However, the moment that she sees him, Carly, like, jumps up and bounces in place. Which, um. Well, that _is_ unusual. David's a little nervous, actually -- it's just, Carly -- well, there's n  
ot much she could really be excited about, in Murray? Just, not much really happens, is all.

"Have you seen the new guy?" Carly asks breathlessly, the moment David's within hearing range. 

"Um, no," David says hesitantly, waiting for them to stand up so they can all walk to class together. "At least, I don't think so?"

"Carly has a crush on him," Brooke says, easily dodging Carly's weak punch and cry of 'I do not!'. "He's, um. A little different."

David's heart sinks a little, in spite of himself. Different usually isn't good. Different usually gets his father upset or mad, and a lecture for David when he gets home -- even though David totally never even _does_ anything, he still has to be informed of the evils that everyone else is getting up to, gosh. Sometimes it makes David a little jealous because -- okay, so it's all sinful or whatever, but it still sounds fun.

The new guy isn't in any of David's classes, at least not that David notices. And if the new guy is as different as Carly seems to be, um, saying, well, David thinks he'd notice him, then. All in all, David's day is kind of boring and exactly the same as it always is, which kind of sucks. He'd had high hopes this morning but no, it's just -- the same. David puts his head down in English and tries to concentrate really hard because, well, only a few more months and then he's getting out of Murray. Somehow. He is.

He meets Carly and Brooke for lunch and sits down, eating the same thing as always, but then Carly perks up a little. "Ooh! David, look! New guy!"

And okay, so maybe David is a little bit interested, and the new guy looks like he's wearing a leather jacket. His hair looks a little bit dumb, though. It's got, like, weird red streaks and oh gosh, his father is going to be so annoyed at this new guy because he just _looks_ like trouble. And in David's (okay, fairly limited, but still) experience, if someone looks like trouble, they kind of generally are. At least a little bit.

Carly stands up and then grins and David also knows that -- well, when Carly grins like that, it usually means trouble. "He's with Johns. Looks like someone made a new friend."

"Carly," David says hesitantly, but Brooke stands up as well and when a matching grin spreads over her face, well, David pretty much gives up. "Brooke--"

"Relax, David," Brooke says gently. "He's just going to eat with us, it's not the end of the world," except it is, okay, because David's father will kill him. Only David knows there's no stopping them when they're like this, so he just focuses on eating his sandwich and determinedly _not_ looking over at whatever's going on with the others. Instead, he thinks about how his mom always packs him too much, gosh, how is he even supposed to eat this and maybe he's humming a bit of 'Too Much Food' when a tray slams down opposite him.

"So who's the human jukebox?" says a voice and David glances up to see the new guy with the weird hair looking at him interestedly.

"Um, gosh, I'm not a -- a jukebox," David says worriedly, and Brooke sits back down next to him (Carly, unsurprisingly, sits on the new guy's unoccupied side). 

"Oh, don't say that," Brooke tells the new guy quickly, who frowns.

"Why not?"

And David really doesn't want the whole story of how singing is illegal, because it makes him sound totally lame, okay, so instead he blurts out the first thing that comes into his mind in an effort to change the subject. "So, um, what's your name? I mean, I -- what's your name?" he repeats, and like _that_ didn't make him sound totally lame anyway.

The new guy glances at Michael Johns, in a 'is this guy for real?' kind of way and David flushes uncomfortably because he gets that a lot, but it's never any easier. Michael just raises an eyebrow though, and the new guy turns back to David but a little reluctantly, David can totally tell. "David. David Cook."

"Ooh, you've got competition!" Carly chirps, kicking David's leg under the table and making him wince. David Cook -- and this is already confusing and it's only in David's _head_, gosh, he _knew_the new guy was going to be trouble -- looks confused and turns to Michael who starts laughing.

"David Cook, meet David Archuleta," he introduces mock-formally, pointing across the table to where David is just staring at his hands because he knows that David Cook is just thinking, _oh gosh, I can't believe I have to share a name with this... dork_, or whatever. Brooke finds his hand under the table and gives it a reassuring squeeze but it doesn't really help.

"Well," David Cook says thoughtfully, "I don't mind going by my last name if Archuleta doesn't."

"Woah, hey, you're the new guy," Carly says, and throws a wink at David who has never been so grateful. "David's already laid claim to his name, you've gotta earn yours."

"That's cool," Cook says, leaning back in his chair. "As long as he doesn't expect _me_ to call him David, I can't handle someone else with my name."

"Um, well, it's just that Archuleta's a bit of a mouthful," David says hopefully, because maybe then Cook will realise that -- well, he should just call him David, is all.

"You're entirely right," Cook says, all big eyes. "Archie suits you much better." Michael splutters at this and even Carly hides a smile behind her hand. "What? What is it?"

"David isn't really a nickname kind of guy," Brooke says softly and Cook rolls his eyes and says, "I'm making him into one, then," and it seems like David doesn't even get a choice in this.

Still, it distracted Cook from asking about the whole la la singing is illegal thing which is something, David supposes. Hopefully next time Cook asks, David won't be around.

\---

On Tuesday, David's barely even made it through the school door when Cook comes up to him, slings an arm around his neck and says, "So how come your daddy made singing illegal?" The leather of Cook's jacket is cold on the back of David's neck and he can barely suppress a shiver.

"Um, well, he didn't mean to," David says without thinking and Cook raises an eyebrow skeptically but waits for David to continue. "I mean -- well, he meant to, but he didn't, um, mean to. If you know what I mean."

"You know, I gotta say that I don't," Cook says, with no hesitation. David sighs a little bit and decides to, like, walk faster, because this totally isn't a conversation that he wants to have with _anyone_, let alone with Cook. Because Cook's busy being all awesome and managing to charm pretty much everyone in the whole school and David just -- well, David wants to stay out of Cook's way. That would probably be best.

"It's," David starts, when it becomes obvious that Cook isn't going to get the message and just leave him alone, gosh. "A couple of years back, um, there were -- a group of kids, and they went to, like, audition? For a singing competition? Only there was, like, alcohol and -- well, they died. On the way back," he finishes. "And so, um, well, my dad, he wants to keep everyone safe, and -- it's not like it's the first time, just, no one had died before."

Cook's nodding slowly, like it makes sense -- which it _doesn't_, okay, even David can admit that. It's an overreaction but his father _does_ want to keep everyone safe, and David understands that. Whatever he thinks about his father's rules in private, he defends them in public. He has to. It's his _father_, and he takes on too much responsibility as it is -- David's seen the grey hairs at his temple, knows how much his father worries about doing what's right.

Then Cook sort of tugs at David with his arm still around his neck and says, "So what do you guys do around here for fun, anyway?" and just like that, the conversation's over. David's sure that Cook won't really want to, like, hang out with him after this but that's okay. David totally isn't disappointed or anything.

"Well," David says, carefully, "we, um, fun?" It's just -- well, they do have fun, there is a ton of fun to be had in Murray, okay, it's just that David can't think of any right now. Cook's bent over with his hands on his knees, creased up laughing and David frowns a little and nudges him with his elbow and tells him as much, but it just makes Cook laugh even more. "No, there is, there's tons of, um, fun," David insists but they're at homeroom by this time, so Cook just punches him in the shoulder and says, "Catch you later, man," before walking away.

Unsurprisingly, David's father is really -- well, when David gets home, the Reverend is sitting in the living room flicking through a Bible, with Jazzy and Amber sat reading on the couch. It's not really a _good_ sign, David supposes, but it's not exactly a bad one, either; his father could just be trying to get inspiration for his sermon, or something. It's definitely not a good sign when his father looks up, though, and says, "David, could you sit down? I'd like to talk to you."

What David really wants to do is say 'No,' or, wait, 'No, thank you,' and carry on walking right up to his room, and then maybe sing. But his legs don't seem to listen, or maybe that's not what David _really_ wants to do after all, because he walks mechanically over to the chair opposite his father and sits in it. His father sets the Bible aside and rubs his forehead with one hand, looking tired and old all of a sudden.

"I hear you've been spending some time with David Cook, recently," his father starts and Jazzy glances up at this and says, "Really? David Cook is a _total fox_." His father starts in his seat, like he'd forgotten Jazzy and Amber were in the room, and Amber starts giggling nervously. Jazzy doesn't wait to get sent out, just stands up and holds out a hand to Amber, and his father just watches them leave.

It didn't use to be like this, David knows. Amber maybe doesn't remember, because she was only, like, six, but the Reverend used to be a lot more laidback and, well, happier. But then those people died, and -- well, David's spoken about this to his mom but only briefly. David's father feels like it was his fault for, like, not doing enough or not seeing it coming or anything, and so -- it just, it makes sense that he wants to do all he can to stop it from happening again. And the adults are totally behind him, all 'oh yes, Reverend Jeff' and they even take it _further_sometimes, like with the dancing, which was totally allowed up until Miss Abdul was all, 'Well, dancing can lead to fornication.' 

Anyway, so David's father says, "Apparently he was heard singing this afternoon."

David jerks up, meeting his father's eyes in spite of himself and says, "Um, really?" His father's gaze doesn't waver and David ducks his head again. "That's -- dreadful," he tries. "I mean, gosh, um, that's -- it's really bad."

"He has, of course, been informed of the -- rules, we have here," his father continues, then -- well, he doesn't crumble, he just. Slumps a little, passing a hand over his eyes. "David, I'm trying here, I really am. I know you think I'm some kind of evil dictator, but I just want you all to be safe."

David hasn't felt so guilty since he last got caught watching American Idol, and all his resolve about singing weakens. He knows how hard it can be to do the right thing, and it isn't his father's fault. "I know," he says, and then as an afterthought sits next to his father, and gives him a clumsy hug. The Reverend's arms tighten around him, and he feels his dad sigh, and an extra twist of guilt sharpens David's stomach.

"So you understand? Why I don't want you spending time with David Cook," his father adds, his words muffled. "He's a bad influence, David."

David says, "I understand," and holds onto his father for a while longer.

\---

Sometimes David stays behind after school for no good reason. He just likes the school more when it's all quiet and everyone's gone home and it's not like he's _trashing_ the place or anything, he just sits on the bleachers and does his homework. It's nice to feel the fresh air, or to glance up and see a big green field instead of his bedroom wall that he's already sick of staring at. Home is somewhere that David's been avoiding lately, because -- it's noisy, usually, because Claudia and Daniel won't stop arguing, and his father always looks so tired, and Jazzy and Amber are usually shouting about something and he just, it's not somewhere that David, um, likes to be very much. At the moment. 

Not only that, but every time he's in his room, he can't stop looking at the list of venues for American Idol auditions that he'd printed out last week (his heart in his throat the whole time for fear of being caught). They're not for -- a few months and he has no idea how he'd get there, either. The only thing he's thought about it what he'd sing; song after song. There are so many songs he'd like to sing, just anything at all, but -- the auditions. David still hasn't come to a decision about them, and just being in his room and having the list doesn't make him feel any better. And it's nice, sitting on the bleachers -- sometimes David thinks about all the other people who will have sat there and what they were thinking about or feeling, and it's just, it's better than being at home, is all.

After he's finished his algebra homework, he carefully packs all of his things into his bag and starts to walk home. He likes walking home, as it happens; it gives him more time to just think. The exercise is good too of course, David doesn't really do much, but it makes a change to just be able to sort things out in his head and be alone with his thoughts. And lately, David's been doing a lot of thinking -- about his future, about, well, everything. He's completely lost in his own thoughts and so it makes him visibly jump when a car screeches to a halt beside him.

Cook's half-leaning out of the window, crooking a finger at David. "Hey, you want a ride? Get in."

David kind of doesn't want a ride, but he doesn't want to say no to Cook either, for a reason he can't quite express at the moment. Either way, the grin on Cook's face doesn't look like he's going to take no for an answer, so David opens the door without saying anything and climbs into the passenger seat. Cook fumbles with the tape player for a few moments and David's terrified that he's going to play -- well, music, but Cook must catch the look of horror on David's face because he ejects the tape and starts to drive. There are actually cassette tapes everywhere; all over the floor and spilling out of the glove compartment and David keeps his feet a few inches above the floor in case he breaks one.

They make it to David's house in silence, even though David's been desperately trying to think of something to say that won't make him sound completely dumb, and so he's about to get out of the car -- as quickly as he possibly can, as it happens, because this has been the most awkward experience of his life, like, _ever_ -- when Cook puts a hand on his arm and says, "So, I know I keep going on about this. But don't you miss singing? Or dancing, or whatever?"

David can see Jazzy peering out of the window to see what's going on. She's going to catch sight of him or Cook or even _both_ in a moment, so he makes the decision in a split-second and sits back in his seat, refastening his seatbelt. "Take a left at the end of the road," he directs Cook, who -- surprising David -- doesn't even ask where they're going, just follows his directions. It's new, to David, someone having that level of trust in him -- and especially someone who he's only just met. 

He puts it away in the back of his mind as another thing to think about later, when it's quiet and he's got more time.

Cook pulls up in front of the warehouse and turns to David, opening his mouth but then closing it again without saying anything. David's thankful for that; this is -- weird enough for him, without having to explain it. It's just that -- he does miss singing, he misses it a lot, and there's something about Cook that just makes him, um, want to talk to him. And David's not really the kind of person who spills, like, all his secrets to everyone -- even though that wouldn't make them secrets then, but still. David knows this means he should probably be more on his guard around Cook (probably shouldn't be around Cook at all, not with his father's disapproval) but he just -- can't help it, really.

Instead, he gets out of the car and starts heading over to the train tracks without even waiting for Cook, who runs to catch up to him. "I hope you're not going to murder me and cut my body up into tiny little pieces," Cook says solemnly and David jerks away to look at him.

"What? No, of course not, I'd never do that, gosh--"

Cook starts laughing, throwing his arm around David's shoulders and tugging him close (and is this a habit or something, because Cook does it a _lot_, and David needs to know if he's going to have it get used to it, gosh). "I was joking, man. Although it's good to know you're not a killer." He looks around as David stops by the tracks. It's dark inside the warehouse; a big open space with a poured concrete floor and the only light coming from open windows on either side of the building, but David can still see Cook's face. He climbs up the short ladder into the cabin and waits for Cook to follow.

"Um," David says, realising that an explanation is actually needed at this point. "I. Sorry for dragging you out here, it's just, you asked about singing. Well, I do miss it. Um. Kind of a lot, actually, but, um, this is where we come. To sing. Me and Carly and Brooke, and sometimes Michael comes along."

"Johns sings?" Cook says surprised, then rubs the back of his neck with one hand. "Wow, this is awesome, Archie. Why here?"

"The trains," David says, gesturing at the tracks. "They're always near, so no one can really hear us. There's..." He bends down and drags an old tape player out of the cabinet, blowing the dust off. They don't use it very often, choosing to sing without music. Music makes it easier to be overheard. "It's pretty much the only place in the town where we can, you know, sing. But we don't do it often, I mean, there's a really good reason -- my father, he has a point." Cook's staring at David but he isn't saying anything and David flushes uncomfortably under his gaze, pushing the tape player back into the cabinet with his foot. "It's kind of lame. Sorry."

"No, hey, don't apologise," Cook says straight away. "It's awesome, this is really awesome. It just sucks that you have to hide it away like this. And I didn't expect this from _you_, of all people."

"Because I'm the Reverend's son," David agrees miserably. "It's really bad of me, I know. I'm trying to stop."

Cook rolls his eyes, pulling himself up onto the cabinet and kicking his feet. "Listen to you, dude, you're not a junkie. This town is so fucked up."

"Um," says David, then, "Can you not -- curse? Do you think? Um, please, if that's okay."

Cook laughs, shaking his head a little bit. "You are something else." He looks around again though, with an expression that David can't quite read. "_This_ is something else." He glances back at David, hopping down from the counter to stand next to him. "You mind if I come here sometimes? Even if you're not around?"

"Oh, this isn't -- I don't _own_ this or anything," David says. "I wouldn't have shown you it if I minded you coming here. I just thought -- you asked if we missed it. Singing."

"This town is _so weird_," Cook says fervently, and then jumps down from the cabin, and only stumbles a little bit. David follows him only he totally uses the ladder because, um, _hello_, he doesn't want to break both his legs or whatever. Cook's sat down by the time David reaches him and staring out at the tracks, so David sits next to him. Maybe this is like David's bleachers for Cook; maybe he can just sit here and think.

"What are you thinking?" he asks without meaning to and then, when Cook turns to face him, "um, I mean, if you want to tell me. You don't, like, have to or anything -- I just wondered. Is all."

Cook smiles and says, "Calm down, Archuleta. No, I was just thinking how different things are here." He shrugs, leaning back and resting on his hands and David -- there must be something in the water or whatever, because David feels brave enough to ask, "Why did you move here?"

Cook turns his head and smirks at him. "Didn't you hear the rumours?"

And yeah, David _totally_ heard the rumours, all about how Cook had, like, an affair with a teacher at his old high school and they had to leave, or the one where he burned down the school, or the one where Cook had the affair and _then_ burned down the school but looking at Cook now -- well, sure, he's totally got that kind of dangerous smirk but, um, David doesn't really think he'd burn down a school. _Or_ sleep with a teacher.

"Um, that's not what I asked," David says finally, and Cook's mouth twitches with amusement.

"You got me there. Do you know, you're the first one who's actually asked me?"

"I am?" David says nervously and Cook's smirk widens.

"Aaw, so young, so naive." He reaches over to ruffle David's hair, ignoring the way David ducks away and yelps, "Cook, please, I'm only, like, a few months younger than you!"

"Yeah, so basically, listen close, my young friend. My dad walked out on us so my mom and I moved here to stay with my uncle and aunt," Cook says, then stops. "Oh. Huh. It's actually not that interesting of a story. Wouldn't you rather hear the one where I seduce the school nurse?"

"The school nurse," David repeats skeptically and Cook waggles his eyebrows and goes, "Yeah, I asked him to give me a physical."

And, um, okay, so Cook totally just said _him_, and -- Cook's looking at him, sort of with feigned casualness like it's not a big deal or anything how David reacts but it totally is, and in the end David's just all, "Um, yeah, because I bet he's never heard that line before or anything," and when Cook laughs, David pretends like he can't hear the amount of relief in his voice.

\---

Cook starts eating lunch with them every day after that, and so does Michael. The other students are totally jealous that they got the new kid, David can tell, and it's really awesome because Cook's mom makes brownies, like, every day or something and Cook shares them around. And Cook's mom makes the best brownies that David's ever had. Even better than David's own mom's, but that's probably because Lupe doesn't really have time to make them, dealing with Claudia, Daniel, Jazzy, Amber and of course David all the time.

Cook also totally gives him a ride home after school most days. It turns out that Cook gets into detention a lot, and especially when he hangs around with Michael. David doesn't ask why, although Cook's usually totally willing to tell him, so their conversation consists mostly of Cook's random stories and all these really dumb jokes that he insists on telling David, too. But at least they have conversations, and David doesn't have to talk all that much, even if Cook does laugh at him a lot when David says things that aren't even funny. It's kind of nice anyway, and David's even beginning to forget about keeping it a secret from his family, so his dad doesn't find out.

Cook always seems really happy, too, so David's really confused when he's at home one day -- _not_ watching American Idol, even though it should be on right now -- and Michael calls him, asking if he knows where Cook is.

"Uh, no," David says, "should I?"

Michael sighs loudly down the phone and says, "Well, what do you _think_, Archie, he's only had a shitty day at school and now he's missing."

"Don't curse," David says automatically then, "Wait, he's had a bad day? And he's missing?"

"Try not to reiterate everything I've just said," Michael snaps and he must be worried, because Michael is usually totally easy going. "Yes, he had a bad day and yes, he's missing. You know Gokey can't stand him. He got one of the teachers against him, and -- look, can you just think of anywhere he might be?"

"I know," David says suddenly, because he _does_, he knows where Cook is. "I know where he is, Michael, it's okay. Does he -- um, should he be home? Like, soon?"

"No, he was supposed to meet me so his mom thinks he's at my house, there's no rush," Michael says, sounding a lot less worried. "Just make sure he's okay, Archie," he adds, then hangs up without even saying goodbye, gosh. David slips his jacket on and heads for the door, not even bothering to tell his parents where he's going. The warehouse isn't far from here -- it's within walking distance, at least, and refreshingly cold; David's breath shows as mist in the crisp air.

Cook is right where David thought he would be, sitting with his back to a wall and an acoustic guitar on his lap (and oh my gosh, how did he even _get_ that, it'd be, like, consficated if anyone found out). He's singing something under his breath and writing something on a notepad and David kind of stops, in spite of himself, because Cook just looks so -- well, peaceful and, um, happy. Happy like David hasn't really seen him before.

But then David must, like, stand on a twig or something -- well, okay, there's no twigs in the warehouse, obviously, but he must make some kind of noise, because Cook stops playing and glances up, beaming. "Hey, Archie! Come over here, I want you to hear this."

And David wants to hear it, like, a _lot_, and he forgets that he's been sent here to, like, send Cook home or to Michael's or whatever and instead he just walks over and takes a seat next to Cook. "I didn't know you played guitar," he says absently and then, when Cook looks at him, "What? You never told me!"

"Oh, hey, Archie, I play guitar, if you were wondering," Cook says gravely, then starts laughing when David pokes him in the side. "Come on, it's not exactly something you drop into conversation, especially not in _this_ town."

"Whatever," David huffs, and then offers, "I play piano?"

"And that's a wonderful thing," Cook deadpans and doesn't stop laughing for, like, five whole minutes even when David uses his most annoyed face -- and he totally looks annoyed, okay, he had to practice it in front of the mirror and everything. "Okay, okay, never mind. You play piano, I should've told you I play guitar, I get it. Do you want to hear this song or not?"

David really does want to hear it, so he settles down and sits on his hands to keep himself from, like, flailing or whatever, and then Cook starts playing guitar and singing "Here in this crowd, I feel all alone," and okay, so David is actually really glad that he sat on his hands because, um, Cook is basically _amazing_ and David is totally jealous. Cook's voice is all rough and growly and it must be colder than David thought, even in here, because he's shivering again. When Cook's finished, David sits there and takes it in for a little bit until Cook clears his throat and David realises that, oh, um, Cook was waiting for him to _say_ something.

"Oh my gosh, Cook! That was like, awesome, I didn't know that you -- you were so _good_!" A bit of paper flutters out of Cook's notebook and David picks it up without thinking, looking at the dates and places written on the back before he realises, with a weird kind of jolt in his stomach, that, um, he recognises them. He frowns a little bit, double checking; San Diego, Dallas, Omaha, Atlanta... "These are the American Idol dates?"

Cook's face lights up as he takes the paper back from David, tucking it into his notebook. "Yeah, they are. You planning on auditioning, Archie?"

"Um," David says, desperately trying to think of a way to lie without sounding obvious, "no. I mean, I thought about it, but I don't think I'm gonna." Cook raises an eyebrow, inquiring, and David can't help turning away from him. It's just so easy for Cook, because he doesn't have the responsibilities that David does. David wants his father to be proud, at least while David's living under his roof, and he -- the Reverend should be _respected_, okay, and this isn't what his father's told him, David can totally think for himself. People don't seem to realise that.

"Hey." Cook reaches over, pulling David back to face him. "Talk to me, Archuleta."

David pastes a smile on his face and says, "You know, I just," and then blanks out and says the first thing that comes into his mind which is, "I can't sing. Um. Well. I mean, I like singing, otherwise I wouldn't come here, but, um, I can't. Hold a tune. At all."

Cook's expression doesn't change and he says, "Yeah, no, I'm not buying that somehow."

David sighs and says, "I don't want to talk about it, Cook," but Cook rolls his eyes.

"When I was thirteen, I threw up over the teacher," Cook says and when David's about to say something, Cook holds up a hand and says, "because I was drunk. From one of those mini complementary bottles of champagne. We had one left over from New Year's -- this is in about June, by the way -- and I drank it at school, leading to the vomiting over Miss Callaghan. Who I had a crush on, at the time."

"What -- I don't understand," David stammers and Cook laughs.

"My point is, that's probably one of the stupidest and most embarrassing things I've done," he explains. "If I can admit to that -- which I can, clearly -- then you can tell me why you're not auditioning for American Idol. I'm pretty sure it won't be in the same league."

David bites his lip, and then stops hurriedly because Cook is staring at his mouth which means he probably looks stupid doing that. Instead, he gives in and decides to explain. "Um, I guess, I just want my father to be proud. And if I'm undermining him then -- he won't be. See, I told you it's not that interesting, dangit," he adds quickly before Cook can say anything else, but Cook just smiles and shakes his head.

"Look, how about you try singing somewhere else first? To see how you feel. I know this club -- it's nothing scary," he says loudly over David's protests, "it's more like a coffee shop only it serves alcohol. They've got a karaoke, open-mic night type thing. I propose that you and I go along and sing, see what kind of reception we get. Treat it as like -- a tester. Before the auditions. If you hate it, or you don't change your mind, I won't make you."

"I guess I could do that," David says hesitantly, mostly because he does want to try it out and see what it's like, but partly because Cook is smiling really brightly and -- David doesn't want to be the one responsible, um, for making Cook sad. Not that he'd be sad, but he might not smile as much. "You should smile more," he says without thinking and then claps his hands over his mouth in horror because, oh gosh, did he really just say that out loud?

Cook's smile widens though, so it's not too bad, and he leans over to ruffle David's hair. "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night, how about it?"

"Sure," David says, eager to change the subject and nearly misses it when Cook says, "Awesome. It's a date."

\---

David feels really weirdly guilty when he's leaving the house even though he shouldn't. Technically he's not doing anything wrong, he's just -- hanging out with a friend, and if they're singing, well, then they're doing it in another city so it's still okay. David's been telling himself this over and over since Cook suggested it and although he still doesn't entirely believe it, he's not going to change his mind. David hasn't sung in -- years, not properly. Under his breath, sure, and a few lines around the house -- when he's on his own, when he's forgotten that he's not allowed because, um, it's just -- well, it's natural to him. And sometimes, he just can't help it, he doesn't even realise that he's _doing_ it.

But this, tonight, this is going to be singing _properly_, something that David isn't sure he still knows how to do. Because -- well, it's like anything else, isn't it? Practice is needed and David's voice is going to be rusty and unused and besides, he had that vocal paralysis the year before the ban, and he's still not sure if -- it might make a difference, is all. David's sung at the warehouse but not loud enough to hear himself, just loud enough to be muffled by the trains. He could be out of tune and off-key most times (but it doesn't matter, not at the warehouse, because then he's just singing for _himself_. Because he has to). 

"Do you ever wish," David says, when he's made it safely out of the house and into Cook's car and they're sitting, silently, just the two of them for a few minutes -- "Do you ever wish that you, um. Hadn't come here?"

"Where?" Cook asks, confused, and then glances at David's face. "Oh. Uh, well." He leans back in his seat, resting both his hands on the wheel, and David appreciates that Cook's taking time to think about it and answer honestly and isn't just all, oh, of course not, Archie, when really he might be thinking, uh, YES. If David had come to another town because his dad had left them and then he couldn't even _sing_ -- he'd probably want to go back home. The light from the streetlamp outside the car is filtering in through the window, lighting up every other stripe of Cook's face and illuminating his thoughtful expression. David has to look away, because there's just so -- so much feeling, inside him; excitement and worry and something else, curling in his gut that he can't quite place.

"Hey, Arch, you still with me?" David looks back over, straight away, smiling brightly to reassure Cook. There's just -- it's something about this atmosphere, okay, that makes David feel nervous -- sneaking out, which is something he's never done before, and the fact that it's dark and it's evening and usually, David is at home at this time. He hasn't been out -- especially not out to a, um, well, a club, ever. 

"So?" David keeps his smile in place, shifting a little in his seat, uncomfortable under Cook's steady gaze. "You didn't, um -- You haven't answered my question."

"You know, I do and I don't," Cook says, reaching up to rub his jaw. "I miss the city all the time, I didn't think I'd ever leave. There was so much going on all the time and -- it was different to here, it was nothing like this, at all. But, uh, I guess I appreciate things more over here. Things that I always took for granted, that I still would if I hadn't come here." David doesn't say anything, and Cook pokes him in the side. "And I'm glad I met you, of course, Arch. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No!" David says immediately, "Oh my gosh, no, of course not," but Cook knows him well enough to recognise the lie by now, so he just laughs and starts the car. David sinks back in his seat, twisting his hands together and stares out of the window, watching the houses go by. They all look the same at this speed, just one blur after another, and it's strangely relaxing to see them whizzing by and to _know_ that he's going somewhere else, away from them. Cook waits until they're in the next town before he slips a cassette tape in the player. He doesn't turn up the volume to its usual ear-shattering levels, just leaves it at a quiet sound, and one that washes over them.David's half-asleep by the time they make it to the club -- and okay, so it's not really a club, not like David was imagining. But it still looks scary and he's still going to be expected to sing in front of people, which David wouldn't mind but now he knows that Cook is pretty much an amazing singer and, um, well, David doesn't think he's going to sound good at all, let alone by comparison, is all. Just the thought of it is enough for David to feel wide awake and, um, kind of _terrified_. He glances over at Cook, but Cook's already half out of the car and so David takes some deep breaths and follows Cook into the club.

It's smaller than David expected, which, okay, maybe that's a good thing because there's less people to embarrass himself in front of, but -- well, it's also easier to see people's faces. And that's -- David finds that scary. Not only that, but there's music, and dancing, and it's weird because -- when David, he hasn't seen it in ages and it's just, strange. That people still do it. And no one's even acting like it's a big deal, they just make it seem so normal, and it _is_ normal, or it should be--

"Hey." Cook puts his hand on David's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, and David glances up to see Cook smiling at him. "Breathe, Archie."

"Sorry," David apologises, but it _is_ scary, and Cook seems to realise that because he doesn't say anything else but he doesn't take his hand away from David's shoulder either which, um, David appreciates, kind of a lot, actually.

"We're on next," Cook says, looking at his watch. "I figured we got here just in time, so you won't be able to panic, Archuleta." He winks at David but David's too busy trying not to, like, hyperventilate or pass out or _something_, and even worse, he'd pass out in front of -- of _Cook_, and how embarrassing would that be, oh my gosh. Cook's expression turns to concern and he puts his other hand on David's other shoulder, crouching down a little so they're both the same height. "Are you freaking out on me?"

"No, I'm not," David protests, even though he is. "I just think, you know, you're really good, and maybe you should -- I mean, you don't need me to sing --"

Cook rolls his eyes and stands up, pulling David closer. "Look, listen to me. How about we do a duet together? That'll be easier, right?"

"Maybe," David says reluctantly, but Cook laughs and totally takes that a yes.

"Do you know Hero? You know Hero, right? Chad Kroeger?"

David really wants to say no, because then he won't have to sing, but Cook only played it for him, like, a zillion times at the warehouse. And then before he knows it, Cook's totally dragged him on stage in front of -- like, all those _people_, gosh, and Cook hands him a microphone before _looking_ at him and singing, "I am so high, I can hear Heaven." David thinks there must be, like, a heater or something -- there totally is, like, above him or something because there's suddenly this really weird flush of heat, or something? Maybe it's broken, they should totally do something to fix that.

He opens his mouth to join in but nothing comes out except a tiny croaking noise which, luckily, the microphone doesn't pick up on. David is _so_ thankful for that because, really, he doesn't want the entire club to just hear him croaking. He's pretty sure no one would be impressed by that and maybe he'd even get booed from the stage and have to hide in Cook's car until Cook had finished, like, impressing everyone. Cook glances at him, looking slightly concerned, and David's stomach dips even further because, well, he doesn't want Cook to think he's some loser who can't even sing.

"Heaven don't hear me," David sings, and it's a lot quieter than Cook, barely audible even, but Cook smiles over at him and it's not a croak, so. David counts that as a win. And once he's got that first line out of the way, it's easier. He has no problem with joining in and at one point, his voice is even a little louder than Cook's, and he can totally hide his voice under Cook's if he wants to. 

And okay, so Cook stops singing on the second verse which David totally didn't expect, but -- it's fun, actually. It's fun, and David didn't realise how much he'd missed singing until he was_here_, in front of an audience who are all smiling and clapping for him and Cook, for both of them! And they totally sound good together and David forgets to be embarrassed or nervous and just -- all his feelings and all his worries and just everything, ever, it all just comes out through his voice and David feels like he's flying -- he's in that moment, where it's more than singing, it's an escape and it's _everything_ and it's perfect. And this, right here, is what David wants for the rest of his life.

It's over too soon and David doesn't want to stop singing (like, _ever_), but Cook lets out a loud whoop that makes David jump and yells, "Thank you! Goodnight!" like he's totally trying to be a rock star or something. David escapes from the stage before Cook does because, yeah, he likes standing up there and singing but the moment the music stops -- well, then David doesn't feel like a singer anymore and he doesn't feel infinite, he just feels like _him_. Like little David Archuleta, the Reverend's son, and he doesn't like standing up in front of people like that. 

Cook bounds off the stage only a few minutes later, anyway, and picks up David and spins him around. It makes David's feet fly out and he's a little worried that he might accidentally kick someone -- "Gosh, Cook, put me down!" -- but everyone moves out of his way and they're laughing anyway and then Cook sets him down carefully. David's a little wobbly after that because, hello, he was just _spun around_ and maybe he stumbles a little bit but that doesn't mean that Cook has to grip his arms, steadying him.

David looks up and he's totally about to ask Cook to let him go or say how good _singing_ felt, but when he sees Cook's smile -- aimed directly at him -- the words get stuck in his throat and David can't really say anything. He's kind of really close to Cook's mouth, as well, and Cook actually has a really nice mouth. David's own mouth feels kind of dry, all of a sudden, and he licks his lips nervously. Cook's eyes follow the movement and, um, David's really warm and kind of shivery at the same time and maybe he's coming down with something.

They stand like that for what feels like at least _five whole minutes_, to David, and his stomach feels like he's going to throw up and so he's obviously relieved when someone he doesn't recognise comes up and pounds Cook on the back and says, "Hey, man, you two were _awesome_." Obviously.

\---

David can't sit still on the way home. It's like there's just so much energy right now, coursing through him, and he wants to go back and sing again and again and just, well, never stop. Which okay, that probably isn't very good seeing as how he's going back home where he can't sing, like, _at all_ but that doesn't bother him right now. It was just so fun, and so amazing, and Cook was so good. David is going to have to tell Brooke and Carly, he knows he can trust them, but he feels like he just has to tell _someone_ or it won't be real and it'll just be stuck inside him forever and David needs to share this experience, okay.

The radio's turned up as loud as it will go and Cook's tapping his fingers in time on the steering wheel and singing along. It's some weird song that Cook said was called 'Best of You'; it's apparently one of his favourites, and Cook's voice sounds totally good singing along with it. David's content just to hum. The light from the streetlights keep lighting David up and it's strangely rhythmical and calming. It doesn't take long for him to settle down, feeling drained but in a good way, like he's run a marathon.

He slips down in his seat and the seatbelt is hooked under his shirt and causes it to ride up, but just a little. David's content and sleepy enough not to care, and he doesn't think anything of it until he glances automatically over at Cook and sees him looking at David's pale stomach, exposed in the light. David flushes uncomfortably, aware that he's too thin and pasty, and tugs down on his shirt until it covers his hipbones.

Cook's looking away again, concentrating on the road and it's a few moments until he picks up the song again, singing "I've got another confession, my friend." This time when David tries to make himself more comfortable, he hooks his fingers in his belt loops and makes sure that his pants stay up around his waist. He's not asleep but he's not fully awake; he's in that strange sort of in between stage where everything feels surreal and dream-like. 

"I, um, thanks," he says out loud and Cook looks at him, bemused and says, "You're welcome?"

"No, I mean, thanks for tonight," David clarifies, and he's probably got a big dopey smile on his face but he's _happy_, happier than he's been in a long time, actually. "It was -- really good. Thanks."

Cook's looking at the road and David thinks maybe he hasn't heard him, because Cook doesn't say anything for a while but then he says, "It _was_ good, man, you're right." They sit in silence for a while longer before Cook makes a huffy noise and says, "I'm glad you decided to come, actually." He pulls over outside David's house and turns properly, to smile at him. "You're a really awesome singer, Archie, and I had fun tonight."

And for some reason -- well, David feels kind of like he's on a date, just sitting in Cook's car until he realises, oh, right, Cook is actually waiting for David to get _out_ of the car, which would probably be a good idea. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"It's Sunday tomorrow," Cook reminds him gently. "You'll see me on Monday."

"Oh, right, yeah," David says and then opens the door and tries to get out of the car, but he forgot to take his seatbelt off first and there's a really embarrassing moment of flailing while he tries to figure out what's holding him _back_, dangit! Cook's not even pretending not to laugh at this point, his head's in his hands and his shoulders are shaking so David unfastens his seatbelt with as much dignity as he can before fleeing the car. Whatever, not even a moment like _that_ could spoil his mood tonight, that's how good he feels! David feels like he's dancing on air as he skips up the path, quietly entering the house and heading towards the stairs.

"What time do you call this, David?"

David's never done anything wrong before in his life, so he's never experienced this horrible sort of feeling -- like a cross between feeling terribly sick and also at the same time feeling like he's in some kind of weird nightmare but he _can't wake up_. And he doesn't even wish that he could go back and not go to the club, because he wouldn't give that experience up for_anything_, it's going to stay with him for the rest of his life, but he just wishes that -- well, that he hadn't got caught, actually.

"Where were you?" his father asks quietly, in this weird calm tone that is, somehow, more scary than if he got mad and yelled.

"I was, um, at a club?" David says, because lying would probably be a better idea but David feels guilty and sick enough without adding a _lie_ on top of it to make him feel worse. 

His father doesn't say anything and doesn't look at David, just keeps on staring at the dark television. It's not switched on, and David can see his own reflection in it, hovering behind his father's chair. "I'm disappointed in you," his father says, sounding tired and weary and David's heart drops. "We'll talk about this in the morning."

In bed, David can't sleep. He still feels a miserable sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach and it's not just because he deceived his father and went out without his permission, it's also because. Because, well, David isn't stupid, okay. He's had a crush on someone before and he knows the symptoms and he can deny it to himself all he wants but it's not going to _help_ any. He knows his father will tell him to stay away from Cook, but David's already made that decision for himself.

He knows that he's doing the right thing, and the guilt in his stomach lessens at the thought. It's going to be really boring and dull without Cook around, but no one ever said that doing the right thing was easy.

\---

Cook sits down next to David during the last minutes of homeroom, late as usual, and for a moment, it's almost like nothing is wrong and -- well, it's just like normal. Only David ruined 'normal', by going out to that stupid club and coming home late and he can't even blame Cook for it, because Cook didn't _make_ him go, David _chose_ to. The decision was up to him, and David made the wrong one. And the worst part of it all, is that David doesn't -- it wasn't the wrong decision because his father's mad, or because David, um, broke his trust. It's because if he hadn't made that decision then he'd still probably be okay to hang out with Cook, still.

"'Sup, Archie?" Cook greets him cheerfully and David is kind of glad that Cook is always late, because this way there won't be time for Cook to argue with him. If he does, that is. David doesn't expect him to or anything, maybe he can just be all, "I can't hang out with you anymore, sorry," and Cook will do that weird fist-pump thing that he and Michael sometimes do, because he might never have really wanted to hang around with David before, anyway. (But, um, maybe he did, because Cook didn't have to take him home after school or ask him to meet him or take him to the club.)

David doesn't trust himself to speak and besides, it's probably easier to avoid someone if you're not talking to them (so David thinks, anyway, having never actually had to avoid anyone before) so instead he hands Cook the note. The note is pretty important, actually. It'd taken David a while to figure out how to word it, and there are at least five variations of the note floating around in his room somewhere. 

It reads: _i am sorry but i can't hang out with you anymore, sorry_. Cook just glances at it at first, not bothering to read it properly, and that gives David the chance he needs to shove the rest of his things into his bag and start walking. He actually manages to make it out of the door before Cook grabs his shoulder, spinning him around, and David had kind of hoped that a confrontation could be avoided if he just made it out into the hallway. 

"What the fuck is this?" Cook demands, shaking the note in David's face. David tries to push Cook's hand away, but Cook totally won't move, so David turns away and starts to walk off. "Archie!" Cook yells after him. "I'm talking to you!"

And okay, fine, so if Cook wants to have some stupid confrontation then David can totally do that. "I can't hang out with you anymore?" It comes out sounding more like a question, not like the fierce yell that David wants, but he can't let Cook know how upset he is so he makes himself smile. He doesn't want to hurt Cook so he doesn't repeat any of the things that his father said -- bad influence, sinful, etc. -- and he doesn't want his father blamed for this, either. This is all David's own stupid fault for getting a crush on Cook, and it'll just make it worse for both of them if David doesn't leave Cook alone, gosh. Cook sighs, though, and pushes his hand through his hair before walking towards David, who takes a step back. "I can't, Cook," he repeats.

"I just -- Where is this coming from?" Cook is making an obvious effort to keep his voice down, which David appreciates. "Is this because of Reverend--"

"No!" David shouts, cutting Cook off before he can even finish his sentence. Why does everything have to be about his father? "I can totally make decisions for myself! I just can't have you around anymore, I don't -- Why can't you _understand_ that, dangit!"

"Because!" Cook grits out, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his side. "Because I just can't, David."

"Oh my gosh," David says in frustration, because he doesn't understand why Cook can't -- why Cook _won't_ just leave him alone already. "It's not like you even wanted to hang out with me anyway, you don't have to _pretend_ all the time."

Cook opens and closes his mouth, momentarily speechless for the first time since David's met him. "I -- is that really what you think?" David doesn't say anything because if Cook wants to -- well, it's Cook's turn to speak, that's all. David isn't rude, he's not going to interrupt him again or anything, even if he wants to. "Archie -- _David_, seriously, man, do you think -- I got detention, like, every day for four weeks just so I could drive you home. Didn't you _realise_?"

And, oh. That... changes things, a little, but -- David feels like -- not like he's been punched in the gut, because it's not -- it doesn't _hurt_, it's just. It's like missing a step on the escalator, when David's breath catches in his throat and he feels like flying and falling, all at once. He wants to say something, but he doesn't know what to say, he's not good with words, not like Cook. And by the time he's ready to say something, to say _anything_, Cook's already turned and left. Cook's leaving him alone and that's what David thought he wanted, but now he knows that it isn't at all.

\---

David helps out around the house more than usual on the weekend. He can't face Carly or Brooke; they've been alternating between scary judgemental faces (mostly Carly) and sympathetic pats on the back (mostly Brooke) all week. David just wants to forget about stupid David Cook and he doesn't want to be reminded of him all the time. It was a phase of his life and it's one that David is over and he's really sorry that he had to stop being friends with Cook but he did, and it should be over now.

He helps his mom fold the ironing on Saturday afternoon because he doesn't have anything better to do and besides, folding sheets and clothes helps David relax. It's kind of mindless work; just fold, fold, fold, but it keeps David occupied enough to not have to think about Cook. His mom talks to him while they work, just the usual questions about how he's getting on at school, and how Carly and Brooke are doing, and has he thought anymore about what he'd like to do for his birthday (which isn't for _months_, but okay). 

It's nice, and David feels more and more like he's making the right decision (even though he still feels a little empty and sad sometimes, and even though he keeps thinking of things he'd like to tell Cook, or songs he'd like to reccommend). Four years ago, David and his mom used to sing when they did chores. David liked singing 'Whistle While You Work' from Snow White best of all; it was fun and upbeat and his mom would fill in on the whistles, but then four years ago David and his mom didn't use to talk as much either, so it's another thing which is for the best. When God closes a door, David knows, somewhere he opens a window.

Claudia comes home around six when David is playing with Jazzy and her dolls, and she stops in the doorway. "David?"

"Yes?" Jazzy pokes him in the leg with her Barbie's head when David stops paying attention and he says, "Oh, gosh, sorry, Jazzy, just let me talk to Claudia for a moment?"

Jazzy decides that this is acceptable, and that's how David finds himself sat on his bed with Claudia curled up by his bedpost. "Davey, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" David asks, because apparently all he can do is repeat words now and Claudia rolls her eyes and says, "Yes, I can tell that something's wrong. I won't tell mom or dad, come on."

"Oh, um, nothing's really wrong," David tells her but Claudia doesn't believe him and in the end, David spills because he really does want to talk to someone and if he can't tell Claudia then there's really no one that he _can_ tell, except God. Which is awesome, because God, like, always listens but He also doesn't give much feedback, not right away, and David would like some feedback. "I like a boy," he tells her at least, playing with the sheet between his fingers and Claudia sighs and puts her arm around him. Her hair tickles his cheek but David doesn't move away.

"And I take it he doesn't like you back?"

"I don't think so," David admits. "And I don't know why he would, anyway, Claud, he's all -- awesome and cool and I don't think he even really wants to spend time with me and even if he does, it's just as friends. So I can't see him again because it's not fair, and I can't."

Claudia sighs and doesn't let go of him. "He can't be that awesome if he doesn't like you. Anyone would be lucky to have you, I promise, I'm not just saying that because I'm your sister."

"But you are," David points out. "You are my sister, and you're always going to be like, oh, David, you're so awesome, but you don't _know_, because you can't _not_ be my sister just to see if you're right and even if you could, it still wouldn't mean that Cook would think that anyway!"

Claudia raises an eyebrow but her arm tightens around David's shoulders. "David Cook? You have a crush on David Cook?"

"Oh my gosh, I did not mean to say that," David mumbles, covering his face with his hands. The last thing he wanted anyone to know was that he liked Cook -- the more people know, the more likely it is to get back to him, and Cook wouldn't be mean or laugh at him or anything but he might even feel _sorry_ for David, and he doesn't want Cook's sympathy. Claudia won't tell, David supposes, but she's still one more person than he wanted knowing.

"No, it's--" Claudia catches herself, biting off the word before it leaves her mouth, and David figures she was probably going to say _sweet_ or something. "You're too good for him," Claudia says finally, taking David by surprise. "And if he's making you upset, then -- obviously I'm not happy about it."

"It's not his fault," David protests, "I mean, um, he's not doing it on _purpose_ or anything, he doesn't even know."

"Whatever, you're still upset," Claudia says, waving her free hand in emphasis. "It's just -- there's more to you than you think, Davey," she adds. "I know you're not going to listen to me but you _are_ one of the best people I know." David still doesn't believe her, because Claudia knows a _lot_ of people -- she's really popular at school -- but then she squeezes his arm and says, "And I love you, no matter what. You know, that don't you?" 

"And I love you," David says, trying to put his other arm around her but he knocks her off balance and they end up lying in a heap on his bed, giggling as they half-heartedly try to free themselves from the tangle of arms and legs.

\---

David's sat on his bed flicking through The Guinness Book of World Records when hears a weird noise, but puts it down to, like, some weird birds or something. He's had trouble with them before, they like to peck at his window for some reason and some of them are really big and scary, okay, so he usually just avoids them and waits until they've gone away. But this one -- it sounds like a pecking noise, but it also doesn't seem like it's going away, gosh, and maybe he should try and scare the bird away.

When he pulls his curtain back, though, there's actually no bird there which is, um, a little confusing, because the noise is still there. David opens his window hesitantly, and peers out. There aren't any birds that he can see, and he totally looks all around the sky to make sure that they haven't, like, flown off super quickly when he opened his window.

"Archie!" David glances down and, um, wow, Cook is totally stood underneath his window. David swallows, hard, but Cook is still grinning up at him with some pebbles in his hand -- and oh, okay, so that's what the noise was. 

"Cook?" David calls, leaning out of his window a little more (but not too far because, hello, he could totally fall and _die_). "Um, what are you doing? Outside my window?"

Cook's grin widens and he holds up a crinkled piece of paper and okay, does he realise that David can't actually read it from this distance? "Stay there!" Cook yells, and smooths out the paper, holding it up in front of him. "Rejoice in the Lord and be glad, you righteous; sing, all you who are upright in heart!" As an afterthought, Cook adds, "Psalm 32:11."

"Um, I know?" David shouts, when Cook seems to be waiting for a response, but Cook just holds up his hand and flourishes the paper again.

"Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy. Psalm 33:3. For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands. Psalm 92:4," Cook finishes and looks up at David expectantly.

David isn't really sure what he's supposed to say but Cook is at his _house_ and also doesn't look like he totally hates David, so that's a good thing. David's aware, in the back of his mind, that he's actually still avoiding Cook but then, David figures, he can't really avoid someone who is _at his house_, oh my gosh. He wonders for a moment how Cook knows where he lives but, duh, Cook only gave him like a zillion rides home, gosh.

"Thank you?" David says hesitantly, because Cook still isn't saying anything and Cook just drops his paper and rubs his hand over his face.

"I'm trying to convince you to come to the American Idol auditions," he says wearily and, _oh_. David did... not see that coming, actually. He knew the nearest ones were today -- he'd only memorised the date since, like, forever -- but he'd long since given up hope of actually going. "I thought," Cook continues, looking kind of embarrassed for the first time ever, "that if I -- you know, if you knew that God approved. You'd come. But it looks like that was wishful thinking."

He turns to go and David panics and leans further out of the window to get Cook's attention and, okay, so maybe he flails a little bit and loses his balance. He manages to catch himself, though, and he only squeaks a _little_ bit. It works anyhow, because Cook turns around straight away and raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Stay there!" David demands, and he wiggles back until his feet touch the floor again and then drops into his room, racing down the stairs and out of the door before anyone else in the house realises he's gone. David is sneaky like a _ninja_ when he wants to be, okay, it's totally awesome. He bounces over to Cook who must have listened to David because he hasn't actually moved at all. "Um, okay, so, could you tell me that again?"

Cook hands David the piece of paper -- which has, like, fifteen Bible verses on it, in Cook's scribbly handwriting -- and says, "Here. I mean, I thought it might convince you. I just really think that you should audition, Archie, it'd be a waste not to. And I know that you want this."

David swallows, looking down at the paper. Cook's added a smiley face at the side of it and it makes -- David gets kind of a lump in his throat, because it shows that, well, Cook's been... thinking about him. And okay, so it's not in a 'wow, David Archuleta is cute and we should date,' kind of way (and David blushes just thinking that) but it's still a way. Cook still likes him, and even if it's only as a friend then it's as a friend who he likes enough to risk being late to the American Idol auditions for.

"Um, I think," David says, looking back up and meeting Cook's eyes (and getting that feeling again, like he's missed a step on the escalator), "that we should, um, ask my father. Because I really want to go but I don't -- I can't lie to him, Cook, I can't just take off."

He expects Cook to say no or just leave, and David has possibly never been so surprised in his _entire life_ as he is when Cook shrugs one shoulder and says, "Okay. If that's what you want to do, we can do that."

David isn't sure that _is_ what he wants to do but it's too late now, so he carefully folds the piece of paper and heads back into the house, Cook following. His father's sat on the couch next to his mom, and Jazzy and Amber are sat in front of them. Too late, David remembers that his father disapproves of Cook but it's too late now. "Um, father?" David says, ignoring the way Jazzy squeaks when she catches sight of Cook. "Can I talk to you?"

His father glances up and frowns a little when he sees Cook, but stands up without saying anything. David's mom squeezes his hand before letting go, which David appreciates -- hopefully his father will take that as meaning that his mom is on, like, David's side. Not that there are sides, of course, David reprimands himself. They follow the Reverend into the other room, and sit opposite him at the table.

"What is this about, David?" his father asks levelly and David's about to answer but Cook speaks first.

"Actually, this is my idea, Reverend. I asked David to come with me to audition for American Idol."

The Reverend sighs, resting his hands on the table in front of him. "I assume that you know my feelings about singing?"

"I do, sir," Cook answers respectfully and, um, David is still right here, okay. "I did -- I wrote down some Bible verses, though." He pushes the paper across the table and David's father picks it up, reading it carefully.

"I am aware of these," he says finally, expression giving nothing away. "However, I do appreciate your forethought."

"I just." Cook stops, and sighs. "Look, sir, can I speak candidly?"

"I encourage it," David's father says neutrally and David is just so taken aback by this. He didn't expect this to happen, at all, and although it's -- strange, it's also... good, really. If David's father doesn't respect Cook then he'd never let David go with him and David -- well. He didn't realise how much he wanted this until now.

"I think singing is an important form of self expression," Cook says, leaning forward over the table. "I don't think it's a bad thing. Especially not -- I love singing, okay? And I'm willing to go by your rules in this town, because I respect that. But the American Idol auditions aren't in this town, and I don't see what's wrong with auditioning. Not if it enables me to make a living while doing something that I love."

The Reverend doesn't say anything but he looks at David, waiting. And this is it, David knows, this is when he has to make his decision one way or another. "Um, I just, well, first of all, I could have just left and gone without your permission but I came in here to ask you and, um, I think that should count for something," David starts awkwardly. "I just, I love singing. I want to sing and I can't do it here and like Cook said, I want to audition and I want to -- I want to sing as a career. Um." David pauses and then adds, "But I want to do it with your approval. Please."

David's father sighs again and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes and David thinks, for a moment, that maybe he's gone too far. He feels something warm against his hand and almost physically jumps, glancing down, but, um, it's actually just Cook's hand. Cook's mouth is only quirked slightly but David knows that Cook's trying not to laugh at him. Still, they're holding hands under the table and it's, well, David just doesn't feel so nervous, is all.

"I'm going to speak to your mother about this," David's father says finally, pushing his chair back from the table and standing up. "I won't be long." He smiles at David who smiles back; his father might do and say a lot of things that David disagrees with but he's still his _father_, after all, and they do love each other. He leaves the room and Cook tips his chair back on two legs, exhaling loudly.

"I feel like I'm asking for your hand in marriage or something."

"Shh!" David says, hitting Cook but they're holding hands so he ends up hitting him with both hands, which doesn't really work. Cook starts laughing but David's father is coming back into the room almost straight away, and Cook subsides quickly.

"I know you've wanted this for a long time, David," his father says, not bothering to sit down. "And I do respect the fact that you came to ask me about it first. I trust that I can rely on David Cook to make sure you're okay?" He meets Cook's eyes, and Cook nods slowly.

"Yes sir, you can. I'll take care of David just like he's a brother to me."

"Then I suppose I can allow this," David's father says and David lets go of Cook's hand to fling himself at his father, hugging him fiercely.

"Thank you," David says, "thank you, thank you, thank you," and his dad laughs, hugging him back just as tightly.

"I know how much this means to you, David," he says and then, quietly, "Make me proud."

"I will," David promises, letting go of his father and stepping back. His mom comes in and gives him a hug too, and then gives Cook one as well which leaves Cook looking surprised but pleased. Jazzy and Amber come running in as well -- to get a first-hand look at Cook, David suspects, but they pretend it's to wish David well and it takes them at least ten minutes to get out of the house and if David's crying a little, well, no one can prove it, is all.

"Well." Cook glances at him as they settle into the car and David carefully fastens his seatbelt. "I can honestly say that I didn't see that coming."

\---

They wait for hours, to be able to sing. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of people there, more people than David has ever seen in one place in his _life_. And all these people can sing, and this is just one city, so if you think of all the people that can sing in all of the other cities, and David is just one person--

His head begins to spin and Cook finds his hand again, squeezing lightly. "You okay there, Archie?"

"Um, gosh, yes," David says, straight away. "There's just a lot of people here, but it's okay, I mean, because it's good, I'm glad that I'm just... well, that I'm _here_," he finishes, with what is possibly an overenthusiastic hand gesture. 

Cook laughs, and lets go of David's hand to slip his arm around his shoulders instead, tugging him a little closer. David resists at first, but he knows from experience that Cook isn't going to let go of him, so he gives up and relaxes against Cook's side. He's warm and comfortable like this anyway and Cook keeps making stupid comments about the other people waiting to audition, bending his head to whisper into David's ear.

David is so totally in trouble, but whatever. Cook will probably get through, and David will not. But that would be for the best, David tells himself, because then Cook will be really happy and also won't have to deal with David, like, being in love with him all the time. And David won't have to deal with that either, and he can just go home and his father will be happy and he can maybe even watch Cook on TV.

"Hey." Cook nudges him, grinning. "What are you going to sing?"

"Oh!" David bites his lip, but really it's not a hard decision. He's been thinking about this, on and off, for years -- since the first season, when he dreamed about auditioning (and gosh, he can barely believe that he's actually _here_, at last). "I think -- do you remember when I played you that one song, at the warehouse? 'Waiting on the World to Change'?"

"Yeah, John Mayer, I remember," Cook agrees. "Awesome."

"What about you?" David remembers to ask and Cook's grin widens.

"'Livin' On A Prayer'. I think they could do with a bit of Bon Jovi up in here."

"Good choice," David says seriously and he doesn't know why Cook cracks up at this because, hello, David totally has the authority to decide whether it's a good choice or not. "Loser," David mutters under his breath but makes sure that it's loud enough for Cook to hear. Cook doesn't say anything so David glances up and then wishes he hasn't, because he recognises that look on Cook's face. That's the look that says Cook is about to do something that David isn't going to like.

"Um, please don't," David says nervously and Cook smirks and says, "Don't what?" and David's about to say _don't do whatever it is you're thinking about doing_ but he doesn't have time to get the words out before Cook, like, _lunges_ at him and picks him up over his shoulder. David flails a little and tries kicking Cook but then Cook starts tickling him and that is just _not fair_. Cook knows where David's ticklish spots are, too, and saying, "Hey, stop laughing if you don't like it," is just mean. Cook knows full well that David can't stop laughing, dangit.

Cook puts him down when an official looking person comes over to give them their numbers. Cook is on first, and then another person, and then David. This is for the best, David decides, because then David has time to congratulate Cook before going in to his own audition and Cook will be happy enough that he got through that he might not be as upset that David doesn't.

So this means that David ends up standing outside the doors when Cook sings, waiting for him to come out. The cameras are there which, um, makes David a little uncomfortable and also, he was kind of planning on listening through the door but he probably shouldn't do that if he's being filmed. It seems like Cook is taking forever and David's hands are shaking _for_ him, but finally the doors open and Cook comes out.

He looks all downcast and David wrings his hands a little bit because, gosh, what if Cook _didn't_ get through? He's all ready to march in there and give Simon Cowell a piece of his mind (maybe) when Cook catches David's eye and yells, "I'M GOING TO HOLLYWOOD!"

"Oh, gosh, wow!" David exclaims excitedly and then, um, wow, that was really mean of Cook to, like, pretend that he wasn't getting through or whatever. He's about to say so but Cook grabs him in, like, the tightest hug that David has _ever_ got. He lets go of him, kind of -- he's still holding onto him, but David is able to _breathe_ now, thank goodness, and he looks down at David and opens his mouth to say something.

And David just thinks, this is the last time that he's going to see Cook before he goes off to be, like, the next American Idol or whatever and Cook's mouth is _right there_ and, well, it's just that David isn't going to get a chance like this again, ever. So he thinks about it but he also doesn't _really_ think about it when he just reaches up and tugs Cook down, just far enough that he can reach up and kiss him.

Cook, um, doesn't really do anything and it's not like it's David's first kiss or anything, he knows it's not supposed to go like that. So he lets go of Cook and stands there awkwardly and, shoot, he just remembered the cameras. Filming the whole thing, shoot. Maybe he wouldn't have done it quite then if he'd remembered those. Cook still isn't saying anything but that's okay, David supposes, he's not disappointed or anything.

"David Archuleta!" Another official looking person comes over, looking kind of stressed and grabs his arm. "You need to come this way, it's almost time for your audition."

"Wait!" Cook grabs hold of David's other arm, pulling him back and okay, so David isn't in some weird tug-of-war or anything. He manages to shake his arm out of the official's grasp who looks annoyed but says, "Five seconds, okay?"

"Um, okay?" David says, then looks at Cook expectantly. 

Cook just shrugs and says, "That was really awesome, Archuleta. Are you -- sure you meant to do that, though?"

And gosh, David is just _so sick_ of being treated like a little kid all the time! He stamps his foot (and okay, that might not be convincing of him not being a little kid, but whatever) and says, "Dangit, do you think that I just, like, fell onto your mouth or something? Hello, of _course_ I meant to do that, I'm only, like, in love with you, you big... you big doofus!"

He pushes Cook a little bit as well, for good measure. Cook's got his mouth open and, shoot, David notices miserably that the cameras _are_ filming the whole thing and his rejection will probably be all over the TV and he's glad for the first time that no one back home will be allowed to watch American Idol, at least. David turns to go and the official looks relieved but Cook hooks his fingers in David's belt loops and pulls him close. "Let go!"

"How about no," Cook says, and leans down to kiss David. Cook kisses him properly this time, his mouth warm against David's own, and David curls his hands around Cook's arm because his legs are really weak, actually. Cook pulls away first, grinning all smugly but David doesn't care right now because, hello, he was just kissing _David Cook_ and it was _awesome_. "I'll see you in Hollywood," Cook says, all whispery against David's mouth and this time the official succeeds in pulling him away and taking him through the doors.

"Go introduce yourself," she tells him and David steps out in front of the judges, introduces himself on the set of American Idol. He's dreamt about being here so many times and now he is, and it's even more awesome than he imagined. The happy-excited feeling is bubbling up and wanting to be free, and David's feeling so much that he can't wait to express it and finally, after all this, David opens his mouth--

And David sings.


End file.
